Letra de Don't fuss over spiders thrown
Trophy Scars
And I read it in a book,
My biased dirty looks.
Now unhand me, you crook.
And I saw it in her face,
She made a big mistake,
That words not hers to take, no.
And this is a joke so listen up close;
Those bodies below are people you know.
Dig them all up, connect all the dots!
And see what you've got.
Not a whole lot, a lot.
All that he knows is all that she is.
A quiet small girl with some guilt and the passion of saying.
Oh well, it’s personal.
It’s personal, it’s personal,
So stop listening in.
I can argue all night in the cold over the tv static.
And snow or the hum of the radio,
Listen for John cause here comes the solo. He plays all the right chords,
We argue over the same two words: spiders thrown.
It's so unoffical but it's all over the fuc*** news,
That you still don't believe,
That you gotta sit down,
And really listen to me one more second.
It's so unoffical but it's all over the news.
You gotta sit down and really listen,
You gotta sit down and really listen to me.
For two seconds buddy,
One more time let me sing it to you.
It's all over the news,
And it's so unoffical John.
We gotta talk about this one pal,
We gotta talk about this one.
This one thinks I'm a dreamer.
Well yeah, I’m a dreamer.
I‘m taking the next train to Florida,
Where it’s warmer.
I won’t argue any longer over spiders.
They say it’s easy when you're the one who’s leaving,
So I guess we're fuc*** even, right? Sit the f*** down and shut up.
I need say a couple things to myself.
What am I doing?
What’s this song?
I can’t remember my teeth in my skin.
Why the grin while knee deep in shit?
Oh, I’m so existential,
Pretentious with pencils,
A market, a staple,
Awkward and able.
A cowboy who reads much too much noise,
And I can’t keep from drinking,
When I’m out with the boys over spiders thrown.
Spiders thrown.
(It’s never right)
My biased dirty looks.
Now unhand me, you crook.
And I saw it in her face,
She made a big mistake,
That words not hers to take, no.
And this is a joke so listen up close;
Those bodies below are people you know.
Dig them all up, connect all the dots!
And see what you've got.
Not a whole lot, a lot.
All that he knows is all that she is.
A quiet small girl with some guilt and the passion of saying.
Oh well, it’s personal.
It’s personal, it’s personal,
So stop listening in.
I can argue all night in the cold over the tv static.
And snow or the hum of the radio,
Listen for John cause here comes the solo. He plays all the right chords,
We argue over the same two words: spiders thrown.
It's so unoffical but it's all over the fuc*** news,
That you still don't believe,
That you gotta sit down,
And really listen to me one more second.
It's so unoffical but it's all over the news.
You gotta sit down and really listen,
You gotta sit down and really listen to me.
For two seconds buddy,
One more time let me sing it to you.
It's all over the news,
And it's so unoffical John.
We gotta talk about this one pal,
We gotta talk about this one.
This one thinks I'm a dreamer.
Well yeah, I’m a dreamer.
I‘m taking the next train to Florida,
Where it’s warmer.
I won’t argue any longer over spiders.
So I guess we're fuc*** even, right? Sit the f*** down and shut up.
I need say a couple things to myself.
What am I doing?
What’s this song?
I can’t remember my teeth in my skin.
Why the grin while knee deep in shit?
Oh, I’m so existential,
Pretentious with pencils,
A market, a staple,
Awkward and able.
A cowboy who reads much too much noise,
And I can’t keep from drinking,
When I’m out with the boys over spiders thrown.
Spiders thrown.
(It’s never right)
Letra de Don't Fuss Over Spiders Thrown de Trophy Scars
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